


P is for Pepper

by Sharpiefan



Series: Master John's Practical Pranks [3]
Category: Show the Colours (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 06:57:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3968713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharpiefan/pseuds/Sharpiefan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is a small boy supposed to do when faced with a pepper-pot and something to which to add its contents?</p>
            </blockquote>





	P is for Pepper

**Author's Note:**

> Um. This was originally supposed to be a fill for an alphabet soup challenge. No prizes for guessing that I never actually managed to post it when it was due. I've added precisely 1500 words since I opened the doc earlier!

  
**Title:** P is for Pepper  
**Fandom/Canon:** Show the Colours  
**Author:** [](http://sharpiefan.dreamwidth.org/profile)[](http://sharpiefan.dreamwidth.org/)**sharpiefan**  
**Word count:** 1605  
**Rating:** U  
**Spoilers:**  
**Pairing/Characters:** John Vickery, Lord and Lady Saltash  
**Disclaimer:**  
**Author's Note:** Um. This was originally supposed to be a fill for an alphabet soup challenge. No prizes for guessing that I never actually managed to post it when it was due. I've added precisely 1500 words since I opened the doc earlier!  
**Summary:** What is a small boy supposed to do when faced with a pepper-pot and something to which to add its contents?

To the young Master John Vickery, the kitchen appeared to be in an uproar. He had been ill with the chickenpox and was now convalescing. He had found his way down the backstairs to the kitchen, where, feeling a little wobbly, he had been wrapped in a blanket and ensconced in Cook's rocking chair in the corner, where he could watch the goings-on while licking out the bowl she had mixed her famed pound cake in. The trouble was that he'd got as much as he could with the spoon and had nearly cleaned the bowl out by running his finger round what was left.

There was a lot of hustle and bustle going on, and the kitchen was warm and cosy, or at least his corner of it was. He regretfully looked at the bowl; there was nothing else in it and he carefully wriggled forward until he could slip off the chair and to the floor. He was feeling a lot steadier now, and carefully carried the big bowl towards the scullery so that it could be washed up.

It was on his way back that the big silver punch-bowl caught his attention. Candlelight flickered, reflected from its gleaming sides in the most wondrous ways because of the moulding and decoration that covered it. He perched on the edge of the rocking-chair again, keeping his eyes on the shining silver. It was sitting next to its stand and he thought how wonderful it would look on the stand – it must be taller than him, on the stand with its lid on it, it _must_ be.

The cook was pouring wine into a big bowl – a lot of wine, too. And then she added other things to it, stirring them in with a big ladle. And then someone needed her attention for something else and she moved away towards the big stove across the kitchen. She dealt with that and turned to do something else, catching sight of John swinging his feet.

"Master John, you can come and make yourself useful if you're feeling better," she said, and reached for an empty bucket, upending it to give him something to stand on. He wriggled off the chair and came over to her expectantly. She handed him a long-handled wooden spoon. "You can stir that for me – only be careful not to tip it over." She helped him to stand up on the bucket, watching him for a moment to make sure that he was going to be steady enough, before turning back to whatever else she was doing.

It smelled... strange. Such a lot of things had gone into it. It was a very deep red, something like the colour of Mama's ruby necklace that he had seen her wearing when he'd been allowed downstairs to see her and Papa in their ball dress before he'd been sick.

He looked around the kitchen from his new vantage point. There were a lot of things on the long table, too. Nearby was the silver that the butler had got out from his pantry, all polished and shining brightly. The punch-bowl was there, of course, but there was also the cruet set, and the salt-cellar and pepper-pot. Seeing them gave him an idea...

It wasn't easy to get the lid off the pepper-pot, but he managed it without anyone seeing, and upended it into the bowl of mulled wine, managing not to empty it completely and nearly sneezed as he screwed the lid on as tightly as he could, carefully putting it back with the salt-cellar and stirring the evidence into the deep red wine.

"Has anybody seen...?"

Nurse's voice made him jump guiltily and he looked around to see her standing looking around the kitchen in consternation.

"Oh, there you are, Master John. You naughty boy – I've been looking all over for you! It's supper time, and then you need to dress to come down after dinner."

He tried not to pull a face at the thought of having to wear his velveteens and a prickly lace cravat... but maybe it would be worth it, to be able to see the results of what he'd done?

Supper was as dull as ever and he tried not to fidget as he was dressed up and submitted to having his hair brushed out and tied back into a queue. He was old enough to dress himself by now, like Robert, so why wouldn't Nurse let him?

"There," Nurse said, stepping back to look at him critically. "You'll do."

The drawing room glowed softly in the candlelight, and the fire in the fireplace crackled merrily. There seemed to be a lot of other ladies and gentlemen, all looking very fine in their fine silks and velvets. Mama was sitting on the sofa, with Papa behind her.

"Remember your manners," Nurse said. She was holding baby Emma in her arms and could not direct Robert and John towards their parents with anything more than a meaningful look.

Robert made an elegant leg to their mother. "Madam," he said, and turned to their father. "Sir." He received a kiss from the Viscountess and turned to John with a look of smug triumph.

John was not as elegant as his brother and knew it, but he was determined not to be outdone, and made as smart a bow as he could to each of his parents before being allowed to receive a kiss from his mother in turn.

The mulled wine was carried in at this point, and John caught his lower lip between his teeth. What if _Mama_ were to taste it? He hadn't thought of that...

Mr Carbery, the butler, took the poker from the fire, where it had been resting in the heat and wiped it quickly with a cloth before turning to remove the lid of the punch-bowl, plunging the poker in where it hissed in the liquid for a moment. He removed it after a long moment and handed it to James, who silently restored it to its place with the other fire-irons.

John watched in horrified fascination as Mr Carbery began ladling the mulled wine out into glasses for James and William to pass around among the assembled guests.

There was a startled and slightly choked cough from the Parson, who dabbed at his eyes with a lace handkerchief. The cough was echoed by various of the gathered guests. John caught sight of a puzzled frown on his father's face as he cautiously raised his own glass to take a sip.

"Lady Saltash, may I suggest you do not drink that?" Papa said, lowering his glass and moving to Mr Carbery to stop him ladling out any more. There was a quick, whispered consultation and the footmen shared a confused look before taking the punch-bowl away.

"I must beg your several pardons, it seems that something has inadvertently been added to our mulled wine. I have requested a bowl of punch to be sent up in its place," Papa said before coming back over. He had a stern look on his face, but John didn't see any more because Nurse was bustling them out and back up to the nursery.

Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea after all?

He didn't know how long afterwards it was when the nursery door opened and Papa came into the room. Oh _dear_... it must have been really bad, if Papa was up here.

Nurse was immediately flustered. It was extremely unusual for the Viscount to venture all the way up to the nursery for any reason at all.

"John, I would have a word with you, if you please, sir," Papa said, fixing him with a stern look.

John swallowed and approached him, twisting his fingers behind his back. "S... sir."

"Did you, or did you not, put pepper in the mulled wine earlier this evening?"

John swallowed and nodded, unable to meet his father's eye. "Y... yes, sir, I d... did." He took a shaky breath and tried to stand a little straighter. "I'm sorry."

"Very well. You will come and tell your mother so." He looked across at Nurse. "Hannah can bring him back up afterwards."

"Yes sir."

He followed his father back downstairs to the drawing room, feeling wretched. His mother was still sitting on the sofa, her hands folded in her lap. The look on her face made him swallow again and he crossed the room to her, his shoes sounding loud in the quietness.

"I... I put pepper in the wine, earlier, Mother," he managed quietly, looking at the floor. "I... I'm very sorry."

"John." His mother's voice was very quiet, and he swallowed again, blinking back tears as he looked up. "Thank you for owning up. I take it you are better from the chickenpox if you are able to come up with such schemes, and will leave it to your father to decide your punishment."

"It is too late in the day to give you the whipping you deserve," his father said from behind him. "You will contemplate your folly tonight and receive the punishment you justly deserve tomorrow morning."

He swallowed as the door opened and one of the maids came in.

"Take Master John back up to the nursery."

"Yes, my lord."

John swallowed and followed her out of the room, feeling dejected. At least the look on the Parson's face had made it all worthwhile...


End file.
